Curtain Call
by madscientistproduction.01
Summary: A magical place called The Theater brings books to life. Harry and Ron are preparing for the production of The Half Blood Prince, but this year nothing goes according to plan.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. I also don't own the concept of the magical theatre. That was taken from a book called ****Eyes Like Stars,**** which I recommend****. **

** *Harry Potter characters may not act like they do in the books. That's because they're supposed to be actors not the real characters from the books.**

** With that said, enjoy!**

* * *

The Theater was filled to the bursting point. Harry had to stand on a chair before he finally spotted a familiar head of orange hair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Ron!" Ron's head whipped around in every direction, trying to figure out who'd called his name. "Ron!" Harry shouted again. Finally their eyes met and recognition set in.

"Well, long time no see." Ron clapped his friend on the back. He'd finally made his way over to Harry by pushing, elbowing, and even crawling between people's feet (much to Ginny's dislike, who had slapped him promptly over the head with her giant script). "Feisty aren't they?" Ron muttered, rubbing the back of his head and motioned toward Ginny. She glared back when she noticed the boys staring.

"Come on," Harry chuckled, "We better go get our scripts."

"Yeah, I guess there's no putting off the inevitable," Ron said, dejectedly.

The lobby seemed even more crowded than the auditorium. Everyone was either lined up at the ticket booth, where the stage manager Ernie was handing out scripts, or they were gathered around little, round tables in the café.

"Who do you suppose the new guy is?" Ron asked, jerking his thumb towards the café. Harry looked over to see a portly actor drinking coffee with Arthur Weasley. It seemed, Harry thought, as if the man were already in costume. A scoffing noise behind him caught his and Ron's attention. It was Ginny.

"Well, you would know if you'd read the book," she said, looking the two boys up and down with her ever critical eye.

"Now, let's not wish for miracles." Harry turned to see Fred and George had sauntered up behind them, just having come from getting their own parts.

"What's that?" Ron asked incredulously. He pointed to both of their rather flimsy scripts.

"This?" George smiled, "This represents how much time we have to spend with the demon director."

"Yep," Fred chimed in, "You should see your script though, little brother. It's like a novel." Judging by Ron's face, Harry would have guessed that Christmas had just been cancelled. Fred and George punched Ron's arm and wished him luck as they walked away, laughing at their own good fortune.

"It won't be that bad," said Harry, trying to convince himself as much as Ron. They finally reached the front of the line. Ernie looked them over a few times before reaching for his clipboard.

"Name?" he asked in a nasally voice and sniffed loudly. Harry raised his eyebrows (being incapable of only lifting one).

"Really, Ern? You've known us for five years." Ernie glared at them and sniffed again.

"Do you know how many actors I interact with every day, Potter? Too many to remember everyone, I can tell you that." Despite his grumbling, Ernie jotted their names down onto his clipboard and went the cubbies on the back wall to find their scripts.

"Look at that!" Ron whimpered quietly as Ernie staggered under the weight of both their scripts. "That's not a novel, it's an encyclopedia!" It did look a little frightening, Harry had to admit. They took their scripts from Ernie and started to make their way back to the auditorium.

"So," Ron started as they walked up front to take a seat on the edge of the stage, "I haven't seen any sign of Moldy yet. Where do you suppose he is?" Harry shrugged and realized that he hadn't seen their friend either. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the clamor of people all trying to make their way into the auditorium at once. "Well, this is it." Ron sighed resignedly. They stood up to find a seat before the actors rushing in could take all the good spots in the back row.

A lone figure walked on stage. She stood there for a moment, holding a microphone in her hand and looking up toward the sound booth. Harry saw her nod her head and mouth something to the sound guys above them. She nodded again and tapped the microphone just to be sure it was on.

"Hello, can I have everybody's attention?" The noise only slightly subsided, only a few people having heard her request. She made what Harry could only describe as a familiar expression. It was a look that clearly said that she would put up with no kind of nonsense. She placed the microphone back on the stand and reached into her purse. Harry squinted, trying to make out what she was holding.

"Uh oh," Ron muttered as both boys realized what it was. They had just enough time to plug their ears before the air horn went off into the microphone. The sound was deafening and easily caught the crowd's attention.

"Thank you," the speaker said, putting the device away. "And now if you could all do me a favor and move into the first few rows, that would be lovely." Everyone grumbled and moaned, but moved nonetheless for fear of losing their hearing altogether. She waited for everyone to settle down before addressing the crowd. "For those of you who don't know, my name is Debra Dolomite and I am the director here at The Theatre. As you all know, this year we are performing The Half Blood Prince. I've been e-mailing most of you for the last couple of months, encouraging you to read the book and the summary of your specific parts." Deb looked pointedly in Harry and Ron's direction before continuing.

Ron chuckled, "She knows us so well doesn't she?" he whispered.

About five minutes later, Ernie trudged on stage and handed Deb a binder. She glanced at and then took a pen from her purse. "So, I guess that's it for announcements. Now I know I ask this every year and every year I regret it, but does anyone have a problem with their parts?" Seamus raised his hand. "Yes, Finnigan?"

"Yeah, how are we supposed to know if we have a problem with our parts if we just got our scripts today?" Everyone groaned and Neville even moved away from Seamus and out of the line of fire.

"Were you listening to a word I said?" the director crossed her arms and stared at Seamus in an exasperated way that only Debra Dolomite could do. Seamus gulped and stayed silent, not knowing whether it would be more dangerous to lie or tell the truth. Deb made an O with her mouth and blew out a gust of air. Harry could almost see the tired circles beneath her eyes. "You were supposed to either read the book or read through the summary of your part that I spent hours typing up."

Some others tentatively asked questions after that, but most had sensed the danger in the room and had wisely decided not to voice their opinions. After answering multiple questions about costumes and makeup, Deb slowly began walking across the stage toward Harry and Ron. With each step her high heels clicked on the wood deliberately. Harry stared at his shoes, praying that she would not ask them if they had done the reading. The clicking stopped. Harry dared to look up through his lashes and saw those purple pointed heels standing directly in front of him.

"So, am I supposed to believe that you two have nothing to say?" she asked skeptically. Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

"Yeah, we're good," Ron said most convincingly. Deb smiled.

"So you're okay with the fact that you're making out with Lavender Brown most of the time?" Ron winced. She'd caught him. She'd caught him and she knew it.

Ron sniffed and cleared his throat. "Yep, no problem." He looked like he might throw-up, Harry thought. But then he thought of Ron trying to make out with Lavender and had to stifle a laugh. A snort managed to escape his mouth before he could cover it. Deb turned to Harry and smiled just as sweetly at him as she had at Ron. Uh, oh.

"And I suppose you're fine with kissing Ginny?" Harry hadn't thought it was possible to choke on his own saliva until he inhaled sharply and had to be slapped on the back a few times before he could regain his composure.

"Oh yeah," he managed to choke out. "No big deal." The director crossed her arms again and glared at the two of them.

"I don't have time for any of your shenanigans this year, got it? No fooling around, no horseplay, and don't waste my time or I'll have your hide." They nodded as solemnly as they could. She surveyed the crowd of actors for one more moment before dismissing them. "Take fifteen and not a second more."

"Well," Ron said as they headed over to the café, "comparatively, I'd say this is turning out to be a pretty good first day of practice."

"That's a good omen," Harry pointed out. "Who knows, maybe this year will be better than last year."

"Oh I know it will," Ron said, sitting down at one of the round tables. "We've got the paramedics on speed dial this year."


	2. Chapter 2

**I finally struck some inspiration for this story. It feels like forever since I've updated. But really guys, come on… no reviews? If anyone's reading this, constructive feedback would be much appreciated.**

"Cut, cut… stop… just – for the love of… just stop!" Deb smacked the table with her clip board. "Come on guys, what is the first thing I tell you every year?" They had just started practice five minutes ago, and already Harry was sensing that it was going to be a long year. At the moment Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were mulling around their dormitory set and running lines. Personally, Harry had thought it was going pretty smoothly; that is, until Deb had made them jump out of their skins by sneaking into the auditorium. Somehow she had managed to make her way all the way up to the front row without being noticed, so her outburst had been quite a shock to the five boys who had thought they were rehearsing in an empty auditorium.

"Don't just stand there like idiots, what do I tell you guys every year?" she persisted.

"Hermione, go spit out your gum?" Seamus tried. The director rolled her eyes.

"Besides that. What's the other thing I always tell you?" Harry racked his brain. She asked the question like it was so simple, but truth be told there were quite a few things she always told them. He could think of a few right on the tip of his tongue, although most of them were pretty graphic and/or obscene and he didn't dare voice any of them. No one else seemed to be able to come up with an adequate answer either, judging from their silence and fidgeting feet. Deb rolled her eyes again and huffed in frustration.

"Always, always, ALWAYS stay in character. Are you going to be talking like you're Americans on opening night? Heck no, so practice the way you're going to perform it."

"Right," Ron muttered to Dean, "I was just about to say that." She sat down at the table in front of the stage again and waited for them to resume. No one had stage fright per say or they wouldn't be Actors, but performing in front of the director from hell on the very first day of rehearsal was nerve racking to say the least. After all, no one likes getting chewed out, especially when you're still trying to get back into character. A couple of throats were cleared and they awkwardly tried their best to get back to what they had been doing before being interrupted.

"Ah, lunch… the best time of the day if you ask me." Ron sighed contentedly. The café was crowded with other Actors who were also on break. Harry recognized one of them as the fat man he'd seen that morning.

"Do you think that's supposed to Slughorn?" Harry asked Ron, who consulted their schedule.

"Must be. Hey, we work with him next." Ron pointed to the time sheet which showed Ron, Harry, and Professor Slughorn working on stage after lunch.

"Joy…" Harry muttered and took another bite of his sub. Ron followed suit, but managed to take off just a little too much. That's going to take a while to chew, Harry thought.

"Mmhmmerrm," Ron said after a moment.

"What?"

"Errmhmmm." Ron pointed over Harry's shoulder. He was just turning around when a voice behind him said:

"Hey guys, mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Neville." Harry smiled and pulled up a chair for their friend from a neighboring table.

"What a way to start off, right?" Ron and Harry nodded their agreement as Neville dropped his tray on the table and sat down. "I mean, I always knew Romilda was crazy, but to send someone to the nurse's office on the first day… it has to be some sort of record." Ron and Harry simultaneously choked on their lunch upon hearing this news.

"Romilda Vane sent someone to the hospital?" Ron exclaimed once he'd regained his composure.

"No, not the hospital," Neville corrected him, "just the nurse's office."

"What happened?" Harry asked hoarsely, still massaging his throat after the rather painful experience of trying to expel soda from his lungs.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure… I think she said that she caught someone lurking outside the Props Department. She thought he looked suspicious, so she hit him over the head with a pair of brass knuckles."

"Romilda has brass knuckles?"

"Doesn't surprise me," Ron muttered.

"Well, who was it?" Harry pressed.

"I don't know," Neville shrugged, "Ernie caught her and sent whoever it was straight to Madam Pomphry."

"Harry, wah time ith it?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food. Harry checked his watch.

"About 1:30."

"We thtill got time, let'th go thee." Ron said as he managed to stuff yet even more of his sub into his mouth.

"What about my lunch?" Neville asked and looked longingly at his untouched tray.

"Come on," Harry said and grabbed Neville by the collar of his shirt, "bring it with you."

**The plot will start picking up in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

***Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Twilight characters appearing in this chapter.***

Ron, Neville, and Harry stood outside Madam Pomphry's door.

"Well, go on… knock." Ron pushed Harry forward.

"I don't want to do it!" He jumped back and pushed Neville forward instead. But Neville stepped aside too.

"I wanted to stay in the café and eat my lunch," he said, pointing out the fact that this had not been his idea.

"All right," Harry huffed, "All together then." They had all three just raised their fists in preparation to knock, when the door was suddenly thrown wide open.

"Ah ha!" Madam Pomphry's shrill voice greeted them, "I thought I heard your voices whispering away out here."

"Good to hear your dulcet tones as well." Ron smiled amiably.

"Don't give me any of your lip!" Madam Pomphry snapped. "I'm extremely busy at the moment, so I have absolutely no time to deal with you two-"

"And me…" Neville raised his hand timidly, but it appeared the nurse had not noticed him.

"-and if you don't want me to call Ernest over here, then I suggest-" But she was once again interrupted, this time from someone within the room.

"That's all right Madam Pomphry, I wouldn't mind company," said a rather dreamy voice. All three boys peered around the nurse's intimidating form to see a head of long blond hair and a porcelain hand complete with nimble fingers that waved to them.

"Luna?" Neville asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. But it was hard to recognize poor Luna Lovegood. She held a cold pack over one eye and her otherwise exquisite bottom lip was swollen and protruded decidedly from it partner. She lifted the cold pack for a moment, as if to get a good look at her visitors. This provided them with an excellent view of a nasty looking cut along the corner of her already swelling eye.

"Hello Neville." Luna's smile was slightly crooked since she was accommodating for the fat part of her lip. "And you've brought Harry and Ron with you. Such a lovely visit this is turning out to be."

"Luna, what happened to you?" Harry asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Well, I don't remember much," she began and replaced the cold pack over her eye, "I was looking for my script, I often misplace it you see, and I heard someone come up behind me. I turned around and after that I can't remember a thing. It appears though that someone hit me."

"It was Romilda Vane," said Ron contemptuously. "She has brass knuckles apparently."

"Oh, that's lovely," Luna said lightly and smiled at Ron.

Later, after Madam Pomphry unceremoniously kicked them out, the boys regrouped back at the café.

"Wow," Ron muttered and threw himself down into a seat, "that Luna is one heck of a girl. She didn't even break character."

"Yeah" Harry agreed, "that's because it's not acting. No offense Neville, but I think she's got a few screws loose up here." Harry tapped his noggin.

"Why would I be offended?" Harry and Ron looked uneasily at each other.

"No-o-o reason," Ron sang while he and Harry attempted to look everywhere but at Neville. "So," he changed the subject, "we know what Luna was doing by the Props Department, but what was Romilda doing down there?"

"No idea." Harry shrugged, "But somehow I doubt she'll tell us even if we ask nicely."

"Uh oh, guys," Neville muttered, his face hardening, "Trouble, two o' clock." Harry turned around, fully expecting to come face to face with Romilda Vane. Instead he saw Cedric Diggory and company walk through the Theater's double doors.

"What's he doing here?" Ron asked incredulously, "He's supposed to be dead, isn't he?"

"And I don't recognize any of those Actors," Harry added.

"They can't be any good if they're _his _friends." Ron's lethal looking scowl was beginning to attract attention from the newcomers.

"Come on," Harry said and quickly pulled his friends into the relative safety of the auditorium. The room was buzzing with the activity of the Actors who'd been required to stay after lunch. Harry glanced warily over his shoulder, hoping the newcomers wouldn't follow them in. He wasn't sure if he could prevent a fight if it came down to that.

"There you two are. Deb's been looking for you." A characteristic smacking and snapping accompanied the greeting. And sure enough, when Harry turned back around, there was Hermione Granger. "What's wrong with him?" she jerked her thumb at Ron, who still looked like he had tasted something sour.

"I'm gonna go now. See you later guys." Neville clapped Harry on the back before making a quick exit. It only took a moment to see why he'd been so eager to depart. Deb marched up to the trio looking not happy in the least.

"Do you two realize you are fifteen minutes late?"

"Sorry, we got sidetracked-"

"You now have only ten minutes to get your things in order. At that time I'll have another group coming in. Granger can fill you in on what you missed." Hermione nodded and snapped her gum again. Deb scowled, "And spit that out," she muttered before marching off toward the café presumably to get more coffee.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and started pulling him down the aisle. Harry, in turn, grabbed Ron's shirtsleeve and dragged him with as well.

"Duff wants to get you guys acquainted with this year's props. He probably won't have time to get through everything again since you guys were late, but-"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, sudden inspiration striking him, "you haven't seen Romilda Vane lately, have you?"

"No," Hermione snapped her gum, "but I heard she decked somebody this morning."

"Yeah she did. It was Luna, but-"

"Luny Lovegood?" she scoffed, "Good, maybe it knocked some sense into her." Ron made a face like he was about to protest when Duff came up to them, a big smile on his face, and shook their hands.

"Good to see you boys again," the bald man beamed at them. "Looks like you've got Deb's panties in a knot already." He chuckled and moved them toward the tables of props laid out on the stage. Duff walked with them from left to right, explaining each in turn. There sure were a lot this year, Harry noted. Most of them were potions ingredients. Harry meandered farther down the tables, moving farther and farther away from Ron who had Duff's attention. He was asking questions about a small stone-like object that apparently was going to be shoved down his throat at some point.

"Don't worry," he heard Duff say, "We're pretty sure it's digestible. If not, then you can always get your stomach pumped. Hey, have you heard? We've got the paramedics on speed dial this year!" Harry chuckled at Ron's whimpering response to Duff's offhand statement.

Suddenly, a patch of blue caught his eye. He moved closer to the end of the table and noticed it was a book. Its cover was dirty and peeling, but there was something oddly compelling about it. Its dingy cover read Advanced Potion-Making.

"Ah, I see you've found your prop, m'boy." Harry jumped at the sound of Duff's voice right behind him.

"My prop?" he asked.

"Yep," Duff clarified, "You find it in Slughorn's cabinet. It's a secondhand potions book, previously owned by the Half-Blood Prince. See, looky here." Duff flipped the book open to the inside cover. There in spidery handwriting, the book was identified as _Property of the Half-Blood Prince_.

"Would you mind if I had a look at it?" Harry asked, feeling an odd sensation in his gut.

"Not now," Duff answered snapping the book shut and looking at his watch, "I've got to lock her back up. My guess is that you'll get a look at her tomorrow, though." The doors to the auditorium flew open then and in marched the director herself.

"Time's up!" she announced, "Now get off of my stage!"

"And she wonders why she's still single," Ron muttered to Harry as they passed her. Thankfully, she seemed not to hear. A glance over his shoulder showed Duff scrambling to pack things up as fast as he could.

"I told you, ten minutes-" Harry heard Deb yelling behind them at poor Duff as he and Ron left the auditorium.

"Well, well, well…" came an all too familiar voice. Cedric Diggory was lounging in the café. He and a few of his friends looked considerably different now that they'd been through wardrobe. They were pale like ghosts and their eyes looked out at the world through animal yellow contacts. "If it isn't Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb." He jumped up lithely and stalked toward them. Harry felt the instinctive urge to back up, but Ron stubbornly held his ground. "Debra hasn't tossed you out with the rubbish yet I see." He smiled smugly.

"Looks to me like she brought the trash back in." Ron took a step forward. Cedric's brows laced together in a glare to match Ron's and a deep growl rose from the back of his throat.

"Edward!" someone yelled from across the lobby. "You're wanted on the stage."

"See you later, Weasel," he snarled and stormed off.

"All right," the same voiced shouted, "Everybody from Twilight, in the auditorium. Let's move, let's go!" Harry glanced thankfully at the stage hand, Marley Talbot, who was now holding the door for the incoming Actors. Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"I'm going outside," he said through clenched teeth.

"You do that." Harry nodded to him and watched him go.

"Thanks," he said to Marley once the lobby was empty.

"No problem." She shrugged it off and smiled. "It looked like things were getting sort of tense out here, so I called them in early. Maybe it'll cool Ed off if Deb screams at him." It was a satisfying thought, to imagine Cedric getting his head chewed off by Deb. Something was bothering him though.

"Why did you call him Edward?"

"That's his name now," said Marley, "You know, since Cedric died he wasn't needed for Harry Potter. I was sort of hoping Deb would retire him, though."

"Yeah me too…" Suddenly, a thought came to him. "Hey!" he said rather enthusiastically. Marley jumped a bit and smiled.

"Yes?"

"Could you get me into the Props Department?"

"Oh no," her face fell, "Please tell me this has nothing to do with this morning." Harry frowned. This morning? What happened…Oh, the fight.

"No, I just… I wanted to look over something, a prop of mine."

"The potion book?" she guessed.

"Yeah," he said, thinking quickly, "you see, I didn't read the book or my character summary and I just want to get a feel for what I'm going to be talking about. So I don't sound like a complete moron." She stared at him, like she was trying to make up her mind.

"Okay," she said slowly, "But don't tell Duff, and make sure you lock up after you're through."

"Thank you so much." He grinned and followed Marley to the Props Department.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter wasn't supposed to end where it does, but I was having trouble with formatting (I really hate Open Office). The next chapter will be longer and more interesting, I promise!* **

The next rehearsal had come around all too quickly for Harry. He's spent the last week literally pouring over the potions book, absorbing every bit of information he could. He'd even learned how to read while walking.

"... and so I figured that that completely defeats the purpose of wearing pants. You know what I mean?" Harry nodded absently, hardly listening to Ron as they trudged through the parking lot of the Theater. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you? Of course not, you've got your nose in that bloody book every time I look at you."

"Sorry, did you say something?" Harry asked, bringing himself out of Advanced Potion-Making for a moment.

"No," Ron rolled his eyes, "I'm just over here talking to myself, as usual."

"Oh, good," Harry mumbled and turned back to the book. Ron scowled; the fact that his sarcasm had been completely lost on his friend had put him in an even worse mood than he'd been in to begin with. They had made it all the way across the parking lot before Harry tripped over the speed bump. "You see," Ron pointed out as he helped his friend to his feet, "That thing's going to kill you."

"It is not," Harry rolled his eyes and tucked the book into his knapsack where no one could see it before they entered the Theater.

"And Duff's going to have a heart attack when he finds it missing." Ron continued.

"He won't find out."

"Not to mention Deb's going to kick you into next week when she figures out that you stole it."

"I didn't steal it!" Harry cried, exasperated. It felt like this was the hundredth time they had had this conversation. "Marley lent me her key, she knows I have the book."

"Yeah? Did she tell Duff?" Ron challenged.

"Does it matter?" Harry retorted angrily.

"Well, he is in charge of the Properties Department..."

"Great, thanks for that," Harry snapped. "You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Ginny." Ron's face darkened. He briefly glanced around and clenched his fists, like he was

looking for something to hit. Deciding against it, he glared at Harry once more and made off for the Lounge.

"Harry? Did you hear me?" Harry looked up. He'd spent all of his break time and most of lunch bent over Advanced Potion-Making. Neville was staring at him curiously.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked apologetically.

"He wanted to know how long you plan on keeping that thing," Ron cut in. This was the first thing he'd said to Harry since their fight that morning. Ron had been ignoring him as much as he could for most of the day.

"I'm returning it after lunch," he replied, looking pointedly at Neville. Neville opened his mouth, as if to say something in return.

"Good," Ron interrupted and stabbed a piece of ravioli. "Maybe then you'll turn back into my best friend... On second thought," he skewered another ravioli, "I've never felt more in character in my life. You should definitely keep it." Neville looked around awkwardly and tapped his fingers against the table as the two friends stared each other down. The tense moment was broken when Fred and George sauntered up to their table and jovially placed a hand on each of Ron's shoulders.

"Unbunch your tighty-whities, little brother," Fred laughed.

"I'm not wearing tighty-whities," Ron snapped and wrenched his shoulders out of the twins' grasps.

"Yeah, I'm going commando too," George quipped. "It feels so good to be free!" Both Harry and Neville cracked a smile, which only made Ron scowl harder.

"Go away," Ron muttered. "This table's full."

"Don't worry, we're not here to stay," Fred smiled. "Just carrying a message is all."

"Deb wants you two to go see Kathy in Wardrobe. She says you better be in the auditorium in ten minutes or else, so I'd get going if I were you," George advised.

"I'm not done eating yet," Ron said stubbornly and stabbed at his lunch again. Fred and George exchanged a look with Harry and Neville, then bent down until they were each eye level with one of Ron's shoulders.

"Oh come on," Fred began, picking up Ron's can of Mountain Dew. Ron tried to snatch it back.

"You know how cafeteria food is," George continued and took Ron's chocolate pudding.

"Hey!" Ron made a grab for it.

"It looks nasty," said Fred and poured the soda all over Ron's ravioli.

"And it's rarely edible," finished George, then added the chocolate pudding to the mix and mashed it all together using a spork. Ron was livid. Neville made a face and edged away from the twins, putting a protective arm around his own lunch.

"I think he's done eating now. What say you, George?"

"I concur, Fred." Both twins smiled mischievously and slapped Ron on the back before heading to the Lounge. Harry thought Ron's face looked like a squeezed Gusher just before it explodes. Ron stood up rather stiffly and pushed his chair with enough force to shake the table.

This is going to be an interesting rehearsal, Harry thought apprehensively.

As if reading his thoughts, Neville gave him a sympathetic look and said, "Good luck."

"Thanks." I'll need it, he added silently and stood up to follow Ron to Wardrobe.


End file.
